Waiting for Lazarus
by l0chn3ss
Summary: Kim is dead, gone, lost in the expanse of the universe, and Jackie is left on the earth plane, shattered. Even as time flows, she sinks deeper into her grief despite attempts to move on with her life. But deep with in her heart, Jackie can't help but to believe that Kim was here. As the seasons pass, she grows determined to find her love and bring her home no matter what it takes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a collaboration JacKim fic co-authored by Makapedia (on tumblr) as well as myself for Reverb 2015!

You can find the 8track link in my description along with the companion art piece by Ilarual~

Thank you to our wonderful betas: Fullmetalgrigori and Earth-shines  
And credits to Rebornfromash for the sandwich

Please let us know how we did and please check out Ilarual's art and fanmix, which inspired the creation of this story~

 _We highly recommend that you listen to the music as you read!_

 **Warnings:** Angst, Dark Themes, Major Character Death

* * *

How do you hold yourself together, when all you were was shattered.

How do you heal your heart, when all you were was torn and there was no way to stitch up the jagged edges.

How do you remember who you are, when all you were was lost, when the part of yourself was gone forever, ripped from you, and you knew you were the one to blame.

Jackie wrapped herself tighter in her blanket, shivering against the cold sheets as thunder crashed in her eardrums, just like that night so long ago. She didn't bother to turn on the lights, didn't want to know what the world looked like beyond the walls of her cocoon, but the light from the window flashed, followed by a boom that shook her. Her arms grew goosebumps, her hairs stood up on her skin, and she couldn't stop shaking.

She hasn't stopped since that night.

Everything reminding her of that night, when she died that night along with _her_. But really? Jackie did die, wanted to die, wanted to go with the girl who left her all alone, all alone in a world too big for just one person to make it through. But she wasn't the one who died that night.

Chilling air drifted through the open window, the one she didn't bother to close, the one that _she_ liked to look through all the time, at the trees around their building, at the flowing wind. _She_ used to open that very window every day, claiming that there was no reason why it should ever have to close, and now, Jackie couldn't bear to touch it. Through snow and through rain, it remained open.

It was always going to stay open.

But the howling storm outside disagreed, throwing water and leaves onto the glass. It rattled, it screamed, and it jeered at her, but Jackie didn't notice. She didn't see anything now outside of her cocoon of blankets, didn't want to hear anything outside of the small comfort, didn't want to know that there was a world outside where she used to live. There was another place outside of the prison she mourned in, outside of the walls out in the sun and under the sky.

Jackie curled up even tighter into herself. There was no place for her now, not when Kim was gone, not where Kim will never be again.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, she dropped onto her pillow, too tired to hold herself up anymore, but she was still awake, still remembering the person she wanted next to her the most. Her brown eyes were glossed over with memories she didn't need, remembering the times before that night, and also the night itself. The blanket laid around her, loose, but caught between her limbs and the bed. A poor replacement of the girl who she once laid with.

Jackie wanted to remember how the moonlight shone against _her_ pale skin and how _she_ used to tickle Jackie with her short bangs, wiggling them over her nose, laughing as they rolled and tumbled. She couldn't remember how _her_ fingers used to lace between hers, couldn't remember how they'd fit into place, so natural, like it was meant to be that way, and it left her feeling misguided.

She remembered the light that used to burn as brightly as her flame, the one who lit her way through the battlegrounds and the one that guided her out of the shrouded mess. _She_ was the sunny day, the flickering embers, the magic that held the earth together. But the world was damp now, colder now, like snow had laid itself over the ground.

There was once a time when snow had been her joy, back when _she_ used to be there. They'd travelled up to a mountain resort, several months ago, and they snuck away after completing their mission to the hotsprings, giggling, hand in hand. And the steam wafted around them, tying them together, drawing each other closer so they didn't lose each other in the vapor. It'd been torturous, pretending to not notice her damp, pink hair that curled just slightly at the tips and to not step over the boundary to caress her flushed, smooth skin on display.

Her touch was warmer than the scalding heat from the water and her green eyes glittered from the reflection of the candles. When she turned around from the moon lit boulders, her pert nose was shiny, and her lips were stuck in a pout. She had her arms crossed over her chest, but it did little to hide it from Jackie's traitorous gaze. Although, it wasn't Jackie who she was hiding from, it was the mountain macaque that peeked in over the fence.

"Damn, I wish we could have some privacy around here."

Immediately, Jackie pointed a finger in their direction and summoned a line of fire that streaked through the air, just above their heads. Only an idiotic monkey would've stayed after that show, and the snow monkeys were clearly not idiots. Kim sighed back into the water, drifting towards her partner who laid back against the edge. Her head met with Jackie's shoulder and she nuzzled closer into her neck.

"You're my shining light, you know?"

But she didn't know anymore.

Lightning flashed again, refracting off of her walls, illuminating the empty bed across from her, her own bed, the one she hadn't touched since that night. She dug her nose closer into the sheets and the pillow that caught her tears, muffling her sobs. It was losing scent, and eventually, it would be as if there was no one there but Jackie, alone in a bed too big for one, alone in her room, alone.

* * *

Jackie didn't hear the knock on her door for she was too deep within herself to notice nor was she awake to answer. There were dreams that night, dreams that showed her images from what seemed to be ages ago, only to warp into nightmares, just like every other night. The sky that started out blue became dyed in pink, and the pure clouds became drenched in tar. And the sun still laughed.

It was laughing at her.

The knocking became louder, pounding along with the memory of the sun in her head. Jackie didn't want to let it in, couldn't let it in, not into her space that she once shared with _her_. But it persisted, it shook within the walls of her soul, vibrating against her, knocking her down to her knees.

Everything was too hot, too cold, too loud, too quiet, too much.

Another knock jerked her in her bed, rousing her from her slumber, and she threw the blanket of her, looking around her. She wasn't in her soul, she was in her room, their room.

Jackie swung her legs off the bed and pushed away, rushing to the door with a dizzy mind and weak legs.

Someone was at the door. Could she dare hope that it was who she wanted it to be, coming home from wherever _she_ went? Did she dare pray that _she_ was coming back, back from where ever she was? Was it _Kim_?

Jackie undid her messy bun and ran her fingers through her hair, tugging through the strands that she hadn't brushed in weeks. Her hands patted her cheeks, noticing that her face was smaller, thinner than she remembered it to be. _How does the rest of my body look,_ she wondered, but it was the least of her worries now. She banished the thought, licking her chapped lips and running her tongue over her slick teeth.

But when she flung open the door, there was no such person waiting for her on the other side. There were no green eyes that beamed at her, and instead, there were violet ones, worried and concerned. There was no girl with a saucy smile or soft cheeks or pink hair. No distraught exclamation about the state of her skin was thrown at her, no whisper telling her about the latest news brought to you from the other class, no haughty sneer as two pork buns were shoved in her face. It was silent.

It was Tsugumi.

Jackie dropped her hands stiffly, feeling her heart drop to the floor, the cold hard floor that dug into her heels. The hallway was too bright, too empty, too much. Her legs felt weak and her head was dizzy. She wanted to crawl back into her bed, pretend she never answered the door, hide away in her closet where she still kept _her_ jacket, but she was stuck to the ground out of consideration for her underclassmen.

Tsugumi was looking right at her, eyebrows squeezed together and her mouth set in a line. Her smooth, black, very black hair was loose over her shoulders, so unlike _her_. No one was _her_.

She began to say something; her lips moved, but no sound traveled. Tsugumi went on for quite some time, animately waving her hands a little in front of her, clearly uncomfortable, but still she kept on going, unaware that Jackie couldn't hear a thing.

She raised a single hand, stopping the other girl in her tracks. "Sorry Tsugumi, can you say that again?" Jackie's voice cracked in the middle of her sentence. It hadn't been used for days and it sounded strange, like it'd had been cut up with a dull blade.

Tsugumi winced, but stilled herself, pretending it didn't happen, but it did, and Jackie saw her nudge a little backwards. "I- I- I hoped, erm, I wanted to, um, invite you out to get lunch.. if you wanted to go… but you don't have to! I- I just wanted to- yeah..."

Jackie rubbed her temples, already drained, however, she heard the underlying words that Tsugumi was too afraid to say. She was worried about her friend, knowing well that Jackie hadn't eaten in a while, that she hadn't even come out of her room in days let alone socialize.

But she looked like a mess. There were dark circles under her eyes, she knew that much, even though she hadn't checked her reflection in ages. She was dehydrated, skin reflecting too much of her poor health and self care. Her once very shiny hair lost its luster and it stuck every which way, just like how her soul felt, messy and wild.

"Maybe not today, Tsugumi." Maybe not in a long time.

"O- oh! It's ok, senpai! We can go some other time. I'll ask you later, don't worry! I- I'm going to go meet up with Maka now. Do you want us to bring anything back for you? Maybe a sandwich?"

"Don't worry," she gave her a small smile. "I'm fine."

And with that, she let the door click, and she settled back on Kim's bed, covering her head from the sunlight that poured through her windows.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jackie," she laughed. " _Jackie._ "

The sun was too much, the air too thick, and her partner threw her head back and smiled. She was waves of pink and warmth, glittering in the sunlight and blinding, dazzling. It wasn't real, she wasn't real, but her throat was clotting with heat and her malnourished soul throbbed with the familiar ache.

But she was convincing, and there was an overwhelming need for her to be real. She smiled like her and she laughed like her, mischevious and _Kim_. It was the sweetest breath of air and it was sweltering, thick like syrup, and threatening to choke her. _She_ smiled again and quirked a brow, picturesque, a perfect copy.

She was full of sunlight and _life_.

Life and death all at once, actually, because her eyes were murky but vibrant with color and her hair was drenched. Her laughter was bells and tinkling, the sweetest swan song; it made Jackie's tongue swell and her fingers twitch. Who was she? How was she here in the sunlight, with her hair catching the light and glowing?

It was disgusting how easy it would be to fall forward and surround her in her arms; was the universe playing a sick joke on her?

"How," Jackie found herself choking. "H-How? You're…"

Dead? _Gone_?

She wasn't sure of anything, because the water licking her toes was cold. Wet and horribly misplaced - she lived in a city that was landlocked, came from the plains of Canada so far away anything remotely drenched, she shouldn't be anywhere near the ocean, and yet there she stood, feet wet in an expanse of shallow, chilled water, staring her meister. Her hair was wet and ragged, shaggy like she'd just hopped out of the shower but still hauntingly real.

She smiled again - simply, sadly, and shook her head, _no_. It was an answer to the question she hadn't asked and it only left her more confused.

A heavy breath tore through her and she clenched her fists at her sides. There was white-hot anger and a torrid, inappropriate hurt that splashed through her chest and she was left panting, shaking, _trembling_ \- didn't she know the wreckage that she left behind? Didn't she know what she did to her, how she'd left her? What sort of a partner did that?

"What are you doing here?"

There was nothing else but the sound of Jackie's breathing and it was deafening - quick, ragged pants that wracked through her, shook her shoulders and burned her eyes because Kim couldn't be real. She shouldn't be real, _how_ could she be real?

Her eyes were alight, brighter than anything else, and iridescent through the musk of the fog.

"Maybe you should pay more attention," she murmured, and her voice chilled Jackie to the bone. It hurt, it hurt; it was the voice of taunting summers and sweat-slicked bangs, of chilly winter nights and _push over, Jackie, share your blankets_.

The water pulsed and ripped at her ankles, splish-splashing as she trampled forward. She was quivering limbs and hot breath as she tore forward, toward her and her odd, sad smile and eyes that melted Jackie to her core. There was fire within her, neglected heat and passion sweltering in her soul and her meister was fanning it with nothing more than a flutter of her lashes and a sweep of her eyes.

Water dripped from Kim's hair as she pressed her lips together. Her chin tipped unusually low, unusually demure. "Concentrate," she muttered, the eye contact burning her.

And she was stumbling toward her, frantic and frenzied, because she wasn't real and couldn't be real but she wanted to feel the swell of her soul so badly. She reached and grasped, ready to take a wrist into her hand and squeeze, ready to feel the damp skin and strum of her pulse more than anything else. There was a piece of her soul missing and aching, and couldn't she tell how badly she'd missed her? How neglected she'd felt, how angry and hurt and devastated she'd been without her and her smile?

She wanted resonance. She wanted the comfort of her soul, to feel Kim dilate and nuzzle against her own like she had before. She wanted to feel real again, to feel whole and full and right - she wanted to stop waking up and hating herself for being alive. What was the point of living if she was without her meister? Her best friend? Her other half?

 _Kim,_ she thought reverently. It was the only word on her tongue, pulsing and strumming, _KimKimKim._

She reached and grasped her wrist. Her skin was cold.

* * *

 _It was icy._

 _She was gone, gone, gone._

Jackie awoke with a jerk, blankets sprawled and tangled in tendrils around her limbs. She was being suffocated by the stark brightness of her sheets and flecks of color and dots spotted her vision, impaling her, exploding in every which way, relentless.

Her shirt was too tight and she was drenched in sweat. Everything was hot and sticky, so glaringly unlike the coolness of the water that'd been pooling around her ankles just moments prior that it brought a flash of whiplash and shock. She gasped and heaved, eyes wide and soul shaken as she grasped her sheets and struggled to catch her breath and make sense of the situation.

Light peeked through her closed curtains like a child hiding behind their mother's skirt - timid, unsure, but obligated and mandatory.

She could still see her behind her lashes. She could still see bright cheeks and murky eyes, drenched skin and pink lips, and it did nothing to quell her crawling skin. The sheets were everywhere, her shirt was soaked through with sticky, cold sweat and her throat _burned_.

Visions of her partner danced behind fluttering eyelids and it made her sick.

It was not the sensation of holding her that had her burning up. No, it was rather like being eaten alive, a shocking rush of liquid, bitter heat swallowing her whole and rising in her throat and - and oh no, that wasn't a haunting, left over fire at all - that was bile, stressed and boiling and she tore from her bed at once, sheets crumbling. Her knees were wobbly and just didn't work, couldn't work, and she hobbled down the hall and to the bathroom. It was like she had forgotten how to walk, forgetting how to control her limbs, and she fell against the bathroom tile with clattering knees and a howl caught in her throat.

She was a mess of tears and fire, body-wracking sobs as she pressed her cheek against the cool porcelain seat of the toilet. She couldn't breathe. It was viscous, too thick and clogging, and she screamed.

It wouldn't bring Kim back. The revelation chilled her.

She'd gotten her hopes up for nothing - but she'd been _real_ , so tangible and poignant and eerily her meister, _her Kim_ , that it'd shaken her to her bones. Her body was too heavy, limbs fizzled with tension and ache and she hunched over the bowl again. She rejected what was left in her stomach in the messiest fashion and the snot rolling down her nose and over her cracked lips did nothing to sate the misery.

She hated Kim for leaving.

But more than anything else, she hated _herself_. She wasn't strong enough, wasn't good enough, and what weapon let their meister die in their place? How could she ever show her face again? The weapon protected the meister, and all she'd done was sizzle out in her partner's moment of need and watch helplessly as she fell, fell to where no one could ever reach her again. She was a grown woman, an accomplished weapon.

And she'd failed.

She was useless. What was a lantern without a flame? What was a weapon without a meister? What was she with half a soul and a mess of fury and sorrow, pouring from every cell of her body, drenching her in rage and regret, unable to burn to protect her or herself, unworthy of forgiveness or peace or love or or or or-

It was shameful. She was shameful. Terrible. The worst. She wasn't worth anything at all, and she crooned her meister's name into the bathroom stall, hearing her own name being whispered back into her ears, the sweet noise being the very thing that kept her sane and drove her crazy.

There were nice acoustics, she realized. Her sobs and retches echoed, and there was nobody to hear it but her.

* * *

A new day dawned. Sunlight licked her damp hair and warmed her, nurtured her neglected heart. The sun rose again, just like it always did, with or without Kim, laughing as it always will.

She dressed slowly. It was hard enough to pull herself out of bed, never mind pulling clothes on, but she'd finally worked up the courage to shower and clean herself, and while she didn't feel like a new, reborn person free of guilt and a broken heart, she did feel marginally better. She washed the sickness off of her skin and combed her hair, so at least looking in the mirror didn't make her feel ill. She could take the towel down from the mirror and stop obstructing her own view from the truth.

There was darkness beneath her eyes and straining her skin, but she was alive. She was breathing, flesh and blood. She existed.

Her hair dripped on the carpet and left a trail of dampness, pinpricks of darker colors splattered and tailed behind her like a bridal veil. It was the first flurry of change since the dream, the first spray of life in her otherwise tomb of a room. She ran her fingers through her hair, dribbled droplets against the wood of her dresser, and stared at her reflection.

Dark hair hung in loose, soaked locks around her face, curtaining her fair cheeks and thin lips. Her eyes were dark, and her lack of sleep made the purple beneath darken all the more, but she was _real_. Her fingers grazed the curve of the nose and glided to the flush of her cheek, feeling the swell of damp skin and live spirit along her bones. Her fingers trailed over her lips and down her neck, and she was Jacquline, demon lantern.

She was Jacqueline and she'd almost felt Kim again.

"Concentrate," she breathed. Her fingers brushed against her bare collarbone and down over her heart, and she closed her eyes. The beating of her heart was in tangency with the curling of her soul.

 _Concentrate_.

The sun always rose again.


	3. Chapter 3

She was finally outside and the sunlight was too heavy on her skin, on her eyes, her everything. It sneered at her, laughing at Jackie's loss of fire, staring down even heavier as the seconds flew past. There was hardly any shade, and Anya's straw hat did little to cover her from the harsh heat. The ground still radiated from it, burning her feet from under her sandles, and the little parts of her skin that did peek out was immediately burned, and kept on burning.

Jackie wanted to hide.

Maka and Tsugumi walked beside her, flanking her from both sides, standing close, but not too close. They talked. They giggled. They looked at Jackie with large, expecting eyes, but all she could do was to shrug and to give them a small smile.

But Jackie didn't quite hear them, she didn't hear anything except for the distant memory, the pounding foot steps that she used to share with _her_. With _Kim_. It was familiar in all the wrong ways. It was like Kim was still there with her, still next to all the girls with a sly smile on her face. Jackie almost strayed off the path to follow an invisible one, one that she and Kim used to take to the ice cream parlor on a hot day such as this one, one that she and Kim used to follow to get to the public swimming pool because there were more boys that hung out there than their school's pool, one that she and Kim used to travel on, together.

But she was alone now.

There was no Kim to hold her hand, tugging her to another boutique. No Kim was there to point at the slushy cart that visited the plaza every time it became too deathly hot. Death. Kim was gone. Kim wasn't here-

"Jackie! Hello? Earth to Jackie!" Maka waved her hand in front of Jackie, snapping her out of her train of thought.

"Huh? Yes?"

Tsugumi giggled slightly at Jackie's little jump. "We wanted to know if you wanted to go get some ice cream after lunch? Ah, or we can go before if you want. Or we can eat it at the same time as we eat lunch. Um, or we don't have to! We don't have to at all-"

Maka stopped Tsugumi with a hand on her forearm. "Up to you."

They looked at Jackie with expectancy, but all she could do was to let her mind wander again, back to the parlor that she frequented with Kim, and she would always get raspberry chip and they would split three scoops between themselves. Just the thought of it ran chills down her spine, and she grabbed her arms, hugging them closer to herself.

"I… don't think I want ice cream right now…"

Maka nodded once, and then continued on their path to wherever she wanted to lead them, tugging just enough on Jackie's arm to keep her moving. Her hands were cool. "We'll head to the cafe then. Tsugumi really liked the sandwiches that she had last time."

Tsugumi nodded vigorously, pumping her arms up and down for emphasis. "Senpai, I really should have saved you a slice, but I didn't know if you liked pineapples in sandwiches."

She stopped despite Maka's direction. "P-pineapples? In a sandwich?"

"I know, I know," the elder girl held up her hands in defeat. "Maka said that too, but after a bite… Ah, it was heaven!" She didn't notice that Maka had been slowly shaking her head, continuing in her blissful description and eliciting small cringes from both girls beside her. "Really, the G. C. M. S. T. A. Double H. P. Triple S was divine!"

Jackie blinked.

"They called it the GCM Stahhpss Sandwich," Maka muttered.

"S-Stahp? Like stop?"

"Like stahp."

"The goat cheese, mozzarella, tomato, avocado, honey ham, pineapple, and sea-salt sprinkle sandwich!"

The blond girl looked down at the ground. "And papaya dressing on the side."

"And papaya dressing on the side!" Tsugumi twirled on her heels, spreading her arms out wide with her eyes closed.

Jackie's eyebrows grew closer and closer. "What… cafe… are you…"

She was interrupted with a small yank. "I promise that Tsugumi ordered some of the weirder things on the menu, but I had a sushi burrito without the sushi and it tasted fine."

"So you had a burrito?"

"No, it was a seaweed wrap with rice, cabbage, chicken katsu, carrots, cucumbers, tofu, cream cheese, and avocado. The sushirrito. It comes with guac and lime sauce. You could even get it with the salmon if-"

"No. I don't."

Maka's mouth arched into a frown, but her secret smile reached her eyes. She lowered her voice enough for it to remain hidden from the twirling girl behind them, but still clear for Jackie to listen. "I'm glad you're talking more."

A small blush formed, and Jackie looked away from their clasped hands, gripping her tighter. "Thank you, Maka."

* * *

Their lunch was far more enjoyable than Jackie would have ever hoped and although she had isolated herself for a few months, her friends treated her no differently than if she'd been missing for just a weekend. She felt almost normal again as she walked a little faster with both Maka and Tsugumi arm to arm. They sat around their circular table indoors where the air conditioning blew cool air into Jackie's smooth hair. They giggled over the insane fusion foods on their menus with their waiter after Harvar, who had been working part time there for a while, brought them a kale, guava, and strawberry smoothie to share, on the house. It was blended all together and yes, it was tasty.

She settled on a Ramen Cheeseburger, although Maka had been dragged her finger across her neck quickly and Tsugumi's excitement was unnerving. However, after the first bite, she set it down gently and shoved the plate to Tsugumi, ignoring the very silently "I told you so" emitting from her left. As if he were summoned at the squeak of the plate against the table, Harvar emerged with Korean BBQ tacos with tangerine slices, setting it in front of Jackie and earning a well deserved twenty five percent tip from Maka, who also abandoned her Mango Salsa for Kimchi Fried Noodles with thick bacon bits. The three looked over to Tsugumi, cringing as their rejected lunches found a new home in her stomach.

After their meal and after borrowing their waiter for several more minutes for a selfie and for four bacon-coffee shots, they exited with another smoothie in each person's hand. The sun had no effect on them now, and Jackie walked in the sunlight, sipping away at her fruity concoction. It was relieving to be amongst them, tranquilizing even to be able to walk on her on without having to drag her feet.

"-and so that's how I got Anya a chalkboard piggy bank, but she doesn't really use it for storing money. She drops in bottle caps since she's trying to finish off a pack of fizzy drinks that she bought when we were in Germany." Tsugumi slurped her peanut butter and chocolate slushie. "Her face when she drinks the blueberry flavor is probably as funny as Jackie's right now. Ah! Maka, do you not like your smoothie?"

"Don't worry, I'm saving it for Blair. I don't think she's tried this flavor but considering that she was the one who introduced me to that cafe, probably."

Jackie gestured to Maka's cup with her own. "I got Mangonana."

"Pineapple Cocorange." She winced. "More pineapples, but it's refreshing at least."

"Who would've thought that there was a fusion place in Death City! But honestly, it fits right in."

Jackie nodded. "That place was weirder than the Mexican-Korean Fusion Restaurant that I went to with K-" She bit her lips shut, but kind eyes coaxed her tongue to finish her sentence. "With K-Kim." The knot in her heart subsided and she repeated it again, stronger than before. "With Kim."

They beamed at her, showering her with hugs and cold fingers as they squeezed her tightly into a hug. Jackie couldn't help but to smile through her pain. She wished Kim could be here, maybe share the day with them, drinking strange drinks and eating strange food, just to be here with friends. To be there with her.

As much as she'd verbally declared her distaste for obnoxious social outings and certain friend's sense of fashion (or lack of therefore), Kim still would've enjoyed locking arms and window shopping. Or ice cream and snacks, or a road trip to the beach, or _anything_. She would've been alive and well, laughing at something Tsugumi said, tugging lightheartedly on Maka's pigtails.

She was everywhere. In the cobblestone walkways, in the Deathbucks door chime, in the way the sun burnt and warmed her hollow core - Kim was breath and life, and Kim was the city.

Everything reminded her of _Kim_.

Between the clothes stores that her meister so eagerly frequented to the makeup store where Jackie had to advise her not to buy the blue mascara or the glitter eyeliner and instead invest in a good concealer to the jewelry store where they'd gotten matching charm bracelets, everything was reminiscent of her. She smiled sadly and shook her head; Kim's regenerative magic kept her skin clear and bright and the need for concealer was nonexistent, what had she been thinking? No wonder Kim had gasped and swatted at her. And it was no wonder why Jackie traced over her arm where Kim had left her touch.

Walking was physically painful. One foot in front of the other, like dragging weights with each rise and fall of her foot. She was carrying the weight of two, of herself and her guilt, and even the smiling faces of passer byers couldn't make the trek easier for her.

Kim had smiled like that. Kim had laughed and grinned and nudged her arm, asked her if she knew where she was going.

She was supposed to be the smart one, but Kim had constantly surprised her with her wit. Who else but her meister could accurately scramble into the library and return in ten minutes with an armful of erotica and a lovestruck librarian in her wake. She was impressive in strange ways, in the way she procrastinated her homework and yet was still managed to pass her classes, in the way she would throw a copy of a history book on the Cree to Jackie, pouting about how she accidentally picked it up, against her will, not thinking once about Jackie's lust of learning about her heritage. Kim was vibrant and a headache and everything in between.

Her heart ached. _Kim..._

And she sighed into her hair as the breeze picked up, just slightly, and she was reminded again of the storm that night, the one that took her partner away. If only she were here, laughing with their friends as they stood sandle-less on the plaza grass, laughing along with the sun that taunted her again with its saccharine, maniacal expression, jagged edges and sunken eyes. And she was afraid to open her own eyes and see that she was gone, that Kim was gone. That she wasn't there. Will no longer be there. Like no one was there. No one.

And yet.

Jackie's chest buzzed. There was a shiver in her soul and the ghost of what once filled her, phantom strokes of an all too familiar presence against her very being. It warmed her, it chilled her, it was _her_.

A hand smothered over her chest and pressed, center and open palmed as she choked out a gasp - there was something there, something begging to burst and claw its way through her and be free. Something neglected and left behind, something angry and passionate and hurt. It was _emotional_ , real and absolute, and ignoring it was near impossible. It pulled at her throat and throbbed against her heart, made breathing hard and tense, and she cried her partner's name, but it remained stuck in her throat.

Was she too good at deluding herself, or-?

She trembled, her knees failing her as she sunk into the pavement. Her hands darted to her head and she squeezed her eyes shut because _stop, please stop. Enough is enough. She's gone,_ Jackie told herself. _She's gone._

But was Kim truly gone?


	4. Chapter 4

"No."

Maka squatted closely with her hands on both of Jackie's shoulders, staring intently into her eyes with conviction. She braced herself again as Jackie tried, as Jackie threatened to combust, but no fire leapt from her fingers nor did it lick against Maka's still very cool skin. It didn't appear since that night.

She repeated her word again, that word, that horrid denying word that brought on another wave of rage, of hurt, of loneliness in Jackie.

She couldn't understand, couldn't believe why it was such a bad thing to believe in miracles, in emotions, _in the truth_. But still, she had to try, to tell them that she wasn't wrong, that she hadn't felt the sudden chill of the wind, that it was instead real. Kim was real.

She was here, she was alive, she was real.

Her dream told her as much, that dreadful dream that pushed her back into the world, to find her, to find Kim. She never left Jackie, never abandoned her, never tossed her aside like a broken match, taking the pain upon herself, falling… falling…

But she was here now, she was alive, she was real.

There was no forgetting such a touch of life, such a grand wisp of magic that ran through the resonance whenever they touched mind, body, and soul. How could Jackie ever pretend to not recognize the fingertips of her own partner as it grazed her heart, marking it as her own, bewitching her? How could she ever stand to ignore the signs, to reject Kim's plea for her weapon to return to her, to lose the memory of the spark of a connection, of her love?

She was as familiar as the creek that ran through her old home, as clear as the sky above her head as she once danced on the beach, kicking up sand wherever she went, as iridescent as the forest of elves and of the leaves that refracted light in every which way as they flew together through the branches, working together to plant the fire of life onto the toxin ridden soil, curing the curse of another witch, as pure as the waves from which she fell.

But she was here now, she was alive, she was real.

How could Jackie hope to convince the girls who danced with death, who slayed demons before and who have seen death knock at their doors with a cup of their blood, to plead to them that the one that Jackie had lost wasn't truly lost? They'd seen the departure of souls with their own eyes, hell, Maka has seen so much more with her special eyes, but but but but-

"No."

There it was again, and there was the next shake on her shoulders as small hands gripped her, and there was the desperation laced voice again, telling her no no nonono _no_ -

"Stop, Jackie. Stop. Enough is enough."

"Maka, if you could feel what's in my heart, that her soul is still there, how it latches onto mine and how it burns me. Please, Maka! Look into it! See that she's there, that Kim is here!"

"Senpai, you're scaring me." The arms around her waist tightened, still trembling. "Stop. Stop, please just stop."

But she couldn't stop, she couldn't let go of that hope she still helplessly clung onto, that little piece of her heart that still beat for a reason, and that reason was this.

"Kim is here. Kim is alive. Kim is real!"

"No, she's gone. She's dead. She's no longer with us."

"Check my soul, Maka. Check and see that she is, that I wasn't dreaming, that I was right and that Kim is still here within me. Maka, please check-"

"I did."

She felt a wetness drip onto her lap, running down her thigh like melted snow. Her vision refocused, and she saw that it wasn't her own tears that fell.

"I've known loss. I've known death, Jackie. I see it. I see their soul slipping through the cracks of their tattered bodies. I see it escape through an unlocked cell where it was once kept in captivity, and I see it when it meets the air for the first time. It floats, disperses, spreads its fading life back into the ground where it once came.

"I can see who's here, who's alive, and who's real. I can see the bright blue auras that glow in every person beside me, that flicker, that grow. I see the beauty, the lovely, the breathing. I see it, I can see it all, and I know, I do.

"I've seen how a soul can become lost, become mangled and corrupted beyond repair, becoming the very monsters that we slay. I've seen the black of evil, the black of their eyes as they can't recognize who they are, the black of their blood. I've seen them rip at themselves, tearing their own skin as they struggled to remember, and finally enclosing themselves where no one will ever reach them again, as if they were unworthy of seeing the light ever again. And that is how I've come to know loss.

"And I know, Jackie. I know it's hard. I know! But-"

Maka's voice broke there. She couldn't continue, couldn't bear to. And at this, Tsugumi's arms finally loosened, dropping to her hips as she dropped tears into the ground, because she had known loss, too.

They knew.

They were still grieving. They knew the loss of a friend and of a colleague. They knew, and they knew well how badly their hearts wanted to spill into the ground like their own fallen peers. They knew of the sleepless nights and of the sleepful days and how the sun could never be a realm of the loved and the innocent.

Jackie wasn't the only one who lost Kim. Jackie was only one in a hundred, of a thousand, of a million. How blind was she to have thought that she was the only one in mourning, caught in their own blankets as they shed their hurt and their fears. They all had loss, had pain, had their own sins that they carried with their guilt.

So they cried.

They wept their frustrations and their anger, wailing their bleeding hearts on a stake. They let their love fall willingly, hitting the ground in a pitter patter, just like rain. It was pouring and they were the storm, crackling and thundering with neglected hearts and a feverish need and longing.

Maka wasn't super human; she was just as young as Jackie, as young as Tsugumi, as young as Crona, as young as Kim.

And even long after Tsugumi had held her breath in efforts to stop her raspy breathing, and even long after Maka squeezed her fists against her side and gritted her teeth as her last drop fell, Jackie still went on.

But somewhere in the middle, she cried not for those who they've lost, but those who could have been saved, for those who sacrificed and for those who were selfless. Jackie cried for those in the darkness, who gave themselves up so that their loved ones could stand in the light.

But then somewhere in between that left a single name that rang as untrue, that toyed with her, that reminding her of the squeeze in her soul she only felt moments ago. It left her broken, shattered further, feeling like she really was going insane from grief.

She was slipping into another wave of hysteria, another headache that left her spinning and dizzy and angry. Her hands shook and her throat throbbed, because she was surrounded with the madness of solitude and it was swallowing her whole.

And still she hoped. She wanted a sign instead of only silence that mocked her every scream. She needed to be proven true, that her heart didn't betray her.

So she prayed. She bargained, promising to sign her own soul to a life of wandering so long as _she_ was back, swearing upon her years that she would forever search for her if _she_ answered her. She would've done whatever it took, whatever it was to find _her_ again. Until both deaths will they part.

Then in the midst of it all, it became tears of relief, of comfort, of longing, and even as her friends held her, she felt another embrace that struggled to hold her, to touch her, to cry along with her.

A drop of rain fell from the cloudless sky, rolling down the side of her cheek, just down her temple, and into her waiting palm.

She wasn't wrong.

Kim was here. Kim was alive. Kim was real.

And even as Tsugumi tugged her to her feet, and even as Maka picked up the spilled, discarded cups of sun-warmed smoothies, even as they reminded her once more for good measure as they walked home.

"I don't worry about the dead, but I hurt for the living. You're alive, Jackie. Kim, she's not."

But she was.

 _She was real._

* * *

It'd been weeks since she stepped out of her room, and would take more weeks until she felt she would ever be ready again. After that day, after it was so clear, after she was so sure that Kim was still with her, she tried everything in her power to convince others, even after Maka and Tsugumi left her at her room since their lunch. She started to attend class again, but she found herself unable to talk about anything else but Kim. She blantly refused another partner, but attended her weapon classes as she normally did. Her assignments all came back to her with half marks, the half that would be filled with the score of a partner, but she ignored that emptiness, telling her teachers that she would make up the extra points later. She talked to her old friends, reminiscing along with them about the old missions she used to take, the school events that she used to enjoy, the duels she would fight in, with Kim.

Maybe she only attended school because of the days she used to roam the halls with another girl by her side, whispering about the rumors that floated through the school, giggling about how Sid would never need another haircut again, daydreaming about where they next mission should be. Maybe she attended her classes because of the people who sat around her, who still remembered the two seats that were normally occupied, who still kept a space open on Jackie's right, as if she were just gone on a bathroom break. Maybe she came because this way, she could relive her life as if Kim never left.

Eventually, she could only bring herself to talk about the future and the possibilities in her reach, telling anyone who would listen about the opportunities just in her reach. And eventually, she lost sight of reality, pretending that she was still in the past, the past where Kim still held her hand and where Kim still slept on her pillow. She spoke about her as if she were only on vacation, as if she were coming back next week, or at least soon. And eventually she pled with them that yes, Kim was still alive, even after they shunned her away, tired of her ramblings, no longer entertaining her fabrications. She was desperate. She must have looked crazed, deranged, delusional, but it would have all been worth it if she could just convince them that her partner was still here.

But she was met with pity, with a sad shake, and with disgust. "Are you making fun of us?" They would say. "Have you forgotten how many of us have lost their partners, too? Move on, Jackie. She's gone."

They walked away from her, leaving her in the shadows of herself and a girl they chose to leave behind in their dust. They kept moving on, walking towards their clear future, away from Jackie who still lingered in places long gone.

There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do to open their hearts.

It'd been months since the pairing disappeared on their mission, and it'd been months since Jackie came back home alone. It'd changed from winter, to spring, and now summer. Even if Kim was still alive, she would be dead now.

She wasn't coming home.

There was no sign of her on the earth, and not even Kid nor Maka, no matter how hard they tried to reach to all the four corners of the earth, could find Kim. Jackie had approached them one night in the Death Room, unable to sleep, still dressed in her pajamas, speaking to them in a low tone, asking for the truth, one last time. And they obliged, even performing a chain resonance despite their weariness, calling upon their combined powers of Death's Best Pair and Lord Death himself.

Jackie couldn't see souls, never could apart from the kishin eggs that she was fed from Kim's fingertips, but that night, she saw a burst of light that surrounded the two pairs, reminding her painfully what it was like to be in resonance.

It was wholeness and rightness with Kim - like she'd found her other half, like she was full to the brim with the heat of life and the brightness of the sun. It was like flying, like the breeze cutting through her hair and warm fingers lacing around her wrist.

Everything she'd been missing. Everything she'd been craving.

As it dimmed, they exchanged a look amongst the group, and the weapons, especially, lingered on each other. They all slowly shook their heads, unable to meet Jackie's eyes.

She really was gone.

And yet, Jackie wiped the sweat from her brow and laid in her bed, facing the window that radiated scorning heat from its little opening, still thinking about Kim, still holding onto the warm in her chest that filled the empty void. It was too bright, but she did nothing to stop the summer as it loomed into her room. Instead, she lay in her bed.

She was numb.

Even in the middle of the day, sleep tried to claim her again. Her eyes drooped and with it, her heart. Perhaps there really was no hope for her. She tried so hard to cope with her loss, no avail something to recover. She spent those stormy nights and those windy days wishing that any one of those sounds would be her, that her own voice would soon be added into that chaos, but she was caught at the eye of the storm, unable to move as everything was destroyed around her.

She was lost at sea... the same place where Kim was lost now.

She could still remember the day, still taste the salt on her lips and feel the dirt between her fingers. She felt the tingle in her fingers that clouded her fire when she touched the earth of the cliff. Even the wind tried to pick her up that day, to whisk her away where she would be deposited where the waves crashed into new terrain.

Elemental weapons were fickle, especially with the earth, and Jackie was no exception. Any disasters, phenomena, or miracles could never go unnoticed, not by those who have always watched and caused them. They felt the ley lines that ran through the ground, connecting them all throughout ancient times. Their powers grew stronger when they were exposed to them, and the opposite ran true when they were separated by great distances. And there were still areas where unexplainable occurrences could pop out of nowhere.

They told her it wasn't her fault.

But it was.

She closed her eyes, only to reopen them hours later that night.

She sprang up, shivering, holding herself so that her body wouldn't fall apart. It was wet. It was cold, and everything she touched felt like needles being shoved through her skin.

It was that dream again, always that dream where the water met her ankles and where Kim stood at a distance, asking her always to pay attention, to notice. But this time, the water was waist high- she could feel it rise, like the tide was coming in. Kim stood even further back, too, just half way under the water just as Jackie was. She could barely hear her voice now, could barely see her haunted eyes and her sad smile.

It was like she was sinking, deeper and deeper into the water.

Jackie held herself closer, hugging her knees just like how Kim did, back when she could watch her. She pressed her eyes against her knees and gripped the sides of her arms. Her shoulders shook involuntarily as she breathed and screamed, tried to gather herself into one piece and collect her thoughts. Her soul was being pulled and tugged and she was only one girl, one weapon.

It wasn't normal, it was trying to tell her something, something only she could feel. She couldn't stop dreaming about it, about her, and it was as if it were the only place she could meet her partner again. It talked to her, reminding her further of the night when they parted.

But enough was enough. Jackie didn't know what or who to believe anymore. She just knew that she felt so strongly, felt so confident that she could sense Kim as if they were right next to each other, deep in resonance. Her heart hummed a familiar song and her mind tingled from their contact, and yet it wasn't like their connection from so long ago. She didn't feel as if her entire being was on fire, it felt wet. She didn't feel like her heart was bursting with their joined love, the warmth was completely missing, and in its place was only darkness.

She felt incomplete; it was wrong.

The image of the sea side came back to her. It always did, mocking her for the night that changed everything, that ripped her only partner from right under her. The waves crashed in her ears and the heavy rain was still beating on her skin. If weather had a face, it would have been crying.

This time, Jackie didn't fight it off, and she stayed in that storm through the gale and on that cliff that threatened to break underneath her. And after a while of listening to the same noise, of reliving that same nightmare, the sounds passed and dissipated into background sound. What rose in its place though, was a voice.

It was Kim, calling for her, _and how dare she ignore her for so long_.

 _How could you leave me alone for so long._

Jackie flung open the window, barely registering that night had settled, and stepped out into the cool air, diving head first into a free fall.


	5. Chapter 5

She hadn't felt her metal in months, hadn't felt the fire that burnt as it did since her tears exhausted it. Jackie lost her ability to transform on that day, to shaken by grief and trauma, and she

And now she couldn't trust herself to phase from skin to steel and from muscle to flames.

It was ridiculous; transforming for the first time had been an accident, a scalding flame that'd burnt her toes and skimmed over the delicate flesh of her knee. She'd managed it when she was only twelve, still young and very much not in control.

Jackie was a seasoned veteran now. She was EAT class elite, weapon of an accomplished meister - she was flame, the embodiment of it in her very being and she couldn't even conjure up the fire to transform into her weapon form. It was like trying to walk with sleepy legs - fuzzy, numb limbs that were more in the way than anything else. Who was she without her lantern? Who was she to Kim if she couldn't do her part as her weapon, as her partner?

She thought of phantom fingers linked between hers, of slim wrists and pink hair frayed over pillowcases, and she burned.

It was muscle memory that finally triggered it.

She was an ice blue flash of brilliant light and then she was demon steel; cold, solid steel, a lantern with a chain and a fire brewing within. It was like putting one foot in front of the other, mindless and monotonous as she forced herself to think of nothing but transformation as her body cut through the chill of the air.

Flight was liberating after the drought. Muscles shifted into gear and instinct took over, and as she tore off through the starlight sky, she felt more like herself than she had in a long while. There was an eerie _rightness_ in flight, even if her balance was off and she staggered and sputtered. Even if she felt like her stomach was in her metaphoric throat and she might spit up her very being.

But she carried on, because the thought of Kim and _her eyes_ and _life_ was louder than anything else.

Though it was unclear how long she'd been flying for, Jackie couldn't find it in herself to care.

The tugging she felt in her soul was more poignant than ever. It was a draw, a blatant pull that gathered all of her attention into one focal point. She knew where she was heading even before she landed, because there was a map in her heart that was written out in Kim's blood and the as the cliffside came into view, she rocketed forward.

Her legs wobbled as she transformed back into flesh and bone.

The crisp, tangy saltiness of the sea tainted the air and stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. Not now, not like this - not when she was so close that she could almost taste the ocean's spray and the swell of Kim's soul. Nothing was going to stop her - not Maka, not the burning in her throat, and not the quiver and shake of her legs. Nothing.

Jackie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Calmness overtook her like a blanket of fresh snow and she exhaled, inhaled, exhaled. Dwelling on the past would lead her to a block, and no matter how badly she was tempted to sink back into her misery and relive the events that'd led to her meister's freefall, she couldn't. It was dark but it wasn't raining, and Jackie could still feel the burst of heat that resided within her this time. She wasn't going to fail again. She couldn't.

There was a fire in her soul and she wasn't about to lose it. Not this time.

It was supposed to be an easy fight. It was nothing the two of them couldn't handle, so of course Kim had gotten it into her head that she could take things lightly. They hadn't anticipated the rain. How had they overlooked the rain when Jackie was an elemental weapon? The horror that had run through her spine and chain when her fire sputtered out was still so caustic and she could still feel it in the ridges between her fingers, in her knuckles and in her wrists. How pathetic she was, for being unable to conjure a flame. How pathetic she was for being unable to protect her meister.

And so Kim had done what she had to do - she'd fought without her (useless, pitiful) weapon. She'd thrown her aside, drenched to the bone and battled forth, with her hands, feet and her magic while Jackie looked on.

The cliff had taken her. The sea had swallowed her whole, and Jackie's flame had sputtered.

But no more; the flames licked her soul, sweltering and alive. She was grace and fury, a woman on a mission, and nothing was going to stop her from latching onto the fragment of hope that was her partner and pulling her back. She was too close to give up now. The seductive hum and tug of her partner's wavelength was a scream in the back of her head, throbbing and demanding, and Jackie was a weapon. She was trained to obey.

It wasn't training that had her lining up her toes on the cliffside. Training had nothing to do with the way Kim's eyes lit up in the back of her mind when she closed her eyes.

Weapon obligations only went so far, after all. Training did not turn weaponkind into slaves that mindlessly obeyed their meister; it merely lead them to favor their meister's will and do whatever they could to help keep them safe. It was Jackie's heart, malnourished and starving, that drove her to swallow her breath and dive into the sea.

It was Jackie's heart that led her through the motions of burning up. It ignited her, surrounding her in a protective ball of passionate and blazing inferno. Her heart sprang to life, throbbing in her chest. _Kim, Kim, Kim._

Fear had nothing on her. Not when she had Kim guiding her. As her partner, she'd follow her anywhere.

As her best friend and maybe _something more_ , she'd light up the whole sea if she had to.

* * *

The waves parted for her, rising in impressive columns of water and resembling tiny waterfalls all around her. The rushing splashes and crossfire did nothing to quell the intensity of her burning. The screaming had become a blinding, searing constant noise and she rushed closer and closer to the source. She needed the silence, needed to feel whole and right again, and when she pushed forward she found herself barrelling into a cavern.

It was only after she could safely place her feet on the ground that she allowed herself to become tangible again. It was freezing without her fire, she quickly noticed, and circled her arms around her and shuddered out a shivering breath. There was no wind chill, for there was no breeze, but there was a distinct lack of sun and brightness to warm the air. It was frigid, and the water that licked her ankles as it drifted reminded her of her dream.

How could anyone had known about a cavern under a cliff? Did anyone know about it or was she the only one who had ever had the gall to pull off a stunt like that?

It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. It was reclusive, secretive, all murky colors and dampness. The real clincher was the purpled limb hooking over an array of dulled rocks and boulders - because she'd know that shoe anywhere and something in the center of her chest blistered. Soul screaming and eyes brimming, she forced her legs into action and scrambled to her meister's discarded body.

Kim Diehl was soaked, thoroughly drowned from the ocean's wrath. Her hair was mangled, wet and plastered to her forehead and neck, and Jackie was so overwhelmed with the sight that she couldn't stop herself from slamming herself down and tugging her meister onto her lap even if she wanted to. She fell onto the rocks with a splash, knees clattering and pinking as she tugged Kim closer to her.

She was beautiful even motionless, even with the chill of her grave draining her of her color. She was still _Kim,_ still full cheeks and long lashes and delicately shaped brows. And Jackie wanted to drown in her colors, in her pinks and blues and greens and brush her fingers over the heat of her skin. Her limp body was gathered into Jackie's arms and she forced out a ragged breath through her nose, unable to keep herself calm in the face of her partner - the woman she'd lost, the woman who was heaven and hell all rolled into one snide little grin.

"Kim," she choked out. It came out in a rasp, high pitched and broken but tethered to her. Her soul shuddered. " _Kim_. Come on."

Her trip would not be in vain. She was not going home without her meister. Never again.

The skin of Kim's face was wintry, crisp with salt and chill of freshwater and mystery. It didn't make a difference; she buried herself against her, hunching over the fallen form of her partner and breathed her in. She was malnourished, and hungry for the validation only she could offer. The smell of her skin was like home, like everything she'd been dreaming of.

She was real, she was here, and Jackie's soul sung with heat.

A hand laced itself with Kim's frigid fingers and the feel of her meister's palm against her was enough encouragement to reignite her; she was fire and the flare of their combined souls, the part of Kim that'd been left behind with her jolting through her bones. She could do nothing but concentrate on the feeling, just as she'd been told. She held onto it and grasped Kim's hand tighter to her own, the tugging and throbbing in the base of her chest as dizzying as it was rewarding. There was blistering heat and fire that burned from her fingertips, as blue as the light of her transformation and Kim's skin was rapidly regaining color.

Life flushed through her, her soul spilling through and glowing from the center of her being. Color spread through her numb, cold limbs like a single drop of blood in a bowl of milk. She was pink and vibrant, all the colors of a sunset and fluttering, cyan eyes that caught Jackie's breath. And when she breathed her name it was like a song, a siren call that had her throwing her arms around her and hugging herself to her chest, where her soul was humming with renewed vibrancy.

She belatedly realized that somewhere along the way, soul protection must've broken; her soul was searing and obvious, a blatant burst of energy and mysticality. It was the warmest glow, the safest Jackie had felt in weeks.

Kim coughed and sputtered. "Wh-" she choked, spitting and gurgling on the water lodged in her throat.

"I knew you weren't gone," she sobbed, the tears blinding and overwhelming, burning trails down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin to dissipate into Kim's damp blouse. "I knew it wasn't true."

Her eyes were cloudy. "Where am I? Jackie?"

The laughter bubbled in her throat and she gagged on it. Her shoulder shook with inappropriate laughter as she heaved and sobbed, pressing herself into Kim's chest and howling with apologetic euphoria. She cradled her closer and rocked on her knees, ignoring the slimy rocks against her legs and the scuffing along her pale skin. Nothing else mattered but Kim in her arms, Kim breathing and speaking and tangling a curious hand into the length of her hair.

Her soul was so close and so right, and when she reached out for resonance she was met with Kim's confusion and glee. Her meister's face glowed with a curious pinkness, something that had Jackie's stomach bubbling and throat clenching with anxious delight.

 _Could it be?_

"You're snotting everywhere," Kim teased faintly, her voice throaty and terse. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She didn't know the half of it. There was practically a ghost in her arms, breathing and smiling widely and blushing, and how could she stop herself from smothering her mouth against a pink cheek and sobbing her relief? There was a feasible vibration between their souls, a connection that was as greedy as the lips that kept ghosting over Kim's nose and features.

Kim gasped and tugged on her hair, pulling her far enough away to get a good look at her. Jackie stared blatantly, selfishly taking in the sight of her meister blushing and the way her lips parted as she breathed. Would it be wrong to taste her breath? Would it be wrong to take it away just as quickly as she'd given it back, to swallow her sighs and breathe in the dawn of a new age?

Her chest heaved and Jackie couldn't look away even if she tried. "Jackie," she said clearly. "What's going on?"'

A hand steadied itself on Jackie's trembling shoulder as Kim pulled herself up to sit. Her arms wobbled, bones weak and muscles lax with sleep and Jackie couldn't stop crying but it was okay, everything was okay, because her heart was beating in time with the pulsation of their souls. Kim fixed her with an even stare, expression anything but serene and delicate, and she couldn't stop herself from pushing her fingers through her chopped locks and brushing her thumbs along the warmth of her cheeks.

Kim's eyes fluttered, lashes long and damp as the pattered against the apples of her cheeks. It was as seductive as it was heartwarming, drawing attention effortlessly. She was enthralled with the way her face hued, rosy to the tips of her ears as she stroked the skin gently, the pads of her thumbs gentle with the misty skin of her partner. Even in the cavern, the rising sun still peeked through the cracks between rocks, rays of light spraying golden hues upon Kim's hair.

She was ethereal, glowing, and she was _real_.

Cracked lips dusted over the curve of her nose and Kim gasped. "Concentrate," Jackie echoed, and when her mouth found hers, it was nothing short of magic.


End file.
